


perfect ain't coming but we'll be alright

by kickassfu



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Geralt's POV, Humor, M/M, Memory Loss, Not a lot of dialogue, Profanity, a lil angst i guess 'cause jaskier can't remember him, a lil fluff 'cause they deserve it, a lot of introspective moments, after s01 e06, lots of pining, triss shows up for like 1 sec
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:07:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22918192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kickassfu/pseuds/kickassfu
Summary: “So, I have to ask, because I’m me obviously, and you’re also a very attractive man. And I know how I am.”“Spit it out Jaskier.”“Have we fucked?” he sounds genuinely intrigued, no mirth in his voice.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 34
Kudos: 766





	perfect ain't coming but we'll be alright

**Author's Note:**

  * For [plum_warrior](https://archiveofourown.org/users/plum_warrior/gifts).



> I got this prompt on tumblr: post ep 1.06, Jaskier completely forgets Geralt (a spell or an accident?), and the witcher is not okay with that.
> 
> which i loved!! and i tried my best. which isn't saying much -.-' hope you enjoy it anyway?
> 
> feel free to send me prompts btw! always looking for ideas to write lol

Geralt is filled with regrets, even if he pretends otherwise.

Life as a Witcher isn’t easy nor simple, and mistakes are a part of existence. He isn’t human, no, but he fucks up just like one.

Becoming the Butcher of Blaviken still haunts him, guilt heavy in his gut every time he recalls the day and wonders. Wonders what he could have done instead. Still, the world only goes forward, fast and unrepenting. And when you live as long as he has, well, the little things pile up until he’s drowning from all the shit he’s done.

Jaskier though.

Hurting him like _that_.

Using him to release all the pent up hurt, to take all the pain inside him and hurl it at Jaskier unfairly...to push him away and out of his life, well-

Geralt regrets it. The second the words are out of his mouth, he wants to pull them back in, to warp time itself to a time before. But the damage is done, and Geralt knows he still needs space to breathe, to ready himself for the apology Jaskier deserves.

So, he lets him go.

But doesn’t watch him leave, for fear his heart will shatter on the ground even more.

They’ll meet again eventually, they always do, and when it happens he’ll be honest for once.

He meets him far sooner than he’s ready to, and far later than he can bear. Time without him is slow and lonely, days blending together, his heart aching with yearning for something only Jaskier brings him.

Jaskier is playing his lute and singing, and as much as he enjoys hearing his voice after so long, it feels odd. It’s a song he hasn’t heard in forever; the first song he’s heard from him actually, with made up monsters and a shitty melody. Since travelling together, the bard had stopped singing it, so it’s definitely weird.

Yes, in that moment Geralt should know something is off, but-

Jaskier is right there, looking lively and smiling, _having fun_. Geralt can’t bring himself to connect the dots.

Even as Jaskier looks at him and smiles, no shadow of anger or sadness clouding his face.

Even when Jaskier’s eyes doesn’t linger on him, as they did before.

His heart beating slow and steady.

No emotional signs.

Nothing.

Geralt doesn’t notice, content in having found him. Filing away the apology for later, when they have a moment alone, enjoying Jaskier’s voice with his eyes closed. The emptiness he felt while on the road alone, getting fuller by the second.

Jaskier ends his performance, more bread thrown at him than coin. It’s a familiar sight, of a time long past, but the Witcher feels much different than that day.

Geralt’s heart beats out of pace, as he waits.

And he waits with bated breath, his head running in circles.

He wants to go to him, grab him, apologize, ask him to come back, beg Jaskier to never leave him again. But Geralt doesn’t want to force him into the conversation, doesn’t want to cage him in with no way out; so he waits.

He always thought himself a patient man, and maybe he used to be, but every second that goes by feels like forever. Convincing himself Jaskier won’t leave him there, his heart laid bare on the table, Geralt closes his eyes again.

Breathing deep, deep, deep, thinking of what he’s going to say, wondering how the future is going to unfold, whether he’s successful with his apology _or not_ (that particular thought hurts). All he truly wants is his bard right next to him once more, companions or friends or _more_ , Geralt will take whatever Jaskier gives him.

“I know I have a wonderful singing voice, but I wasn’t singing a lullaby.” Jaskier smiles, and sits in front of Geralt.

It’s easy and comfortable, as if Geralt hadn’t put his huge metaphorical foot in his shitty metaphorical mouth. It’s odd, and still, the Witcher is more than happy to move away from _that_ conversation, “Yes, you do.”

Jaskier looks happily surprised, and preens at his compliment.

“The music is shit though. You have better.” the offended look Jaskier gives is a bit funny, but the confusion that mars his face is-

“Oh, are you a fan? Wasn’t sure I had any of those. But if we’re being honest, I don’t really have much else in my repertoire, just old and dusty stuff that most folks don’t care for.” Jaskier is babbling, and Geralt missed that more than anything but-

_What?_

“What? What do you mean Jaskier?”

“You even know my name? Wow, unexpected, but pleasant.”

He isn’t lying, or faking whatever this is, he just- Jaskier doesn’t recognize him. Doesn’t remember 20 plus years of friendship and love shared. Doesn’t remember the beautiful melodies nor how they saved each other’s lives multiples time. Can’t recall how he tenderly took care of the Witcher, bathing him when needed, their travels, their...everything. And he definitely doesn’t remember how shittily Geralt treated him, the yelling and the unnecessary words.

Geralt has been stabbed before; he’s been ripped by claws and mauled by huge jagged jaws, poisoned and betrayed and so much more, but nothing ever came close to hurting him like this did.

It feels like being erased, as if he never mattered in the first place, and never will again.

He fucking hates it.

_But…_

Jaskier doesn’t remember him, doesn’t know him nor care for him, and still he’s sitting right in front of him. Like that first meeting all over again. So, Geralt holds onto that precious thought, feeling, until he can fix this.

“You doing ok over there?” Jaskier’s voice is light, but slightly worried, as he looks right into Geralt’s golden eyes.

“Jaskier. _Julian_ , do you truly not remember me?” it’s a stupid, useless question; he has to ask it anyway.

“I’m pretty sure I’d remember meeting _you._ ” he looks confused at first, probably wanting to ask how he knows that name, but eventually settles on looking over Geralt seductively.

The attention would have been nice any other day.

There are more important things to worry about right now though.

“I’m Geralt of Rivia. You’re my bard.” he wants to add _‘and I’m your Witcher’_ but chooses against it; too much, too fast, too complicated and messy.

“ _Bollocks._ ” Jaskier says unbelieving, until he sees Geralt’s clenched jaw, “Are you telling me you’re my muse, and I don’t even remember you? Oh, that’d be a good song!”

“Jaskier, that’s not the point. We need to fix it, fix you.”

“Right, sure. Of course. How did it happen? And why weren’t you there to prevent it?” Jaskier is like a giddy child, with his notebook and pen in hand, prepared to write down whatever Geralt says, ready to undoubtedly write a new song. _Geralt is sure he isn’t going to like this one._

“I-” he can’t do it.

“You what? Busy killing monsters?”

“We had a fight.”

Jaskier closes his little book, and focuses on Geralt, probably trying to read him, very interested on what he has to say, “Did we?”

“Hm.”

“I’d usually ask what I did wrong, but I’m pretty sure you’re to blame with how cagey you’re acting. So, tell me, Geralt of Rivia, what really happened?”

“You’ll remember soon enough. And then I’ll apologize. Come.” he says, getting up and walking away. Hoping Jaskier follows him out, _knowing he will_.

“You just- what, expect me to go with a random Witcher to Gods knows where?”

Geralt smiles, small and barely there, but doesn’t stop walking, “Heroics. Adventure. New material.”

He hears Jaskier huff and say _fuck_ , before he shuffles out of his bench- _same old Jaskier after all._

* * *

Being with him again feels great, like warm food after days of hunger. It’s like home, safe and constant-

_-except for all the fucking questions-_

-and annoying.

Truthfully, Geralt likes it, the questions, the loud voice, everything. Complaining is just second nature to him. And he actually answers them, _mostly_ , some feel too personal and tender (like his insistence in knowing what the fight was about). More than hm’s and huffs, actual words. They walk next to each other, Roast next to them (yes, he’s in a hurry, but he needs this time with Jaskier, just for now).

“So, I have to ask, because I’m me obviously, and you’re also a very attractive man. And I know how I am.”

“Spit it out Jaskier.”

“Have we fucked?” he sounds genuinely intrigued, no mirth in his voice.

Geralt almost stumbles, “Uh…”

“ _We haven’t?_ Color me surprised. Am I not your type? Is that it? That has to be it, or else I would have pounced on you. Well, unless...”

“Unless what?” he asks softly, scared of the answer.

“So, I _am_ your type. Good to know.” Jaskier winks, pleased with himself and continues, “And if you get to keep your secrets so do I. I will not throw myself under the bus like that. Ask me that again when I regain my memories.”

“ _Fine._ ”

“Where are we going?” Jaskier asks out of boredom, and to annoy Geralt a little more.

“Meeting a friend.”

“Because…?”

“She’ll fix you.”

“What if she can’t?” Jaskier asks off-handedly, strumming his lute.

Geralt stops dead in his tracks and stares at Jaskier fiercely, grabbing his hand as an anchor.

“Right, of course she can.”

At that, Geralt jumps on Roach and pulls Jaskier up with him, “Hang on tight”

* * *

Yennefer is still a sore spot, not because they’re meant to be (not like _that_ at least), but because he also hurt her with his actions. It isn’t something that can resolved easily, so he decides to visit Triss instead. No bad blood there, he thinks, and luckily they are close by.

“Someone cursed him. To forget his most important thing, _I think._ Or something similar.”

 _Oh_.

“Can you…”

“Oh, yes. It’s pretty easy to break, don’t worry. All he needs is true love’s kiss.”

“What?” Geralt and Jaskier ask at the same time, Geralt’s voice soft and Jaskier’s practically yelling.

“ _I’m joking._ ” Triss’ face is amused, looking at them both like they’re idiots.

Which they are.

A simple potion, and _Jaskier_ is staring at him. Blue eyes somehow more blue, more intense, more years on them. And a million different expressions pass through his face, anger, sadness, happiness, confusion, delight, until everything stops.

Until Geralt is on his knees.

Triss leaves them there, two fools in love, and gives them the privacy they need.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean- I didn’t want- you didn’t deserve, I’m- I’m sorry.” so much time to figure something out, and nothing actually comes out.

“ _I know._ ” Jaskier sighs, world weary.

Geralt wants to ask _‘Do you forgive me? Will you come back?’_ , instead he waits.

“I remember already, aren’t you going to ask again?”

He’s puzzled, not understanding what he means, and then he remembers their conversation on the road, “ _Unless what?_ ”

“Unless I’m in love with you, but you’re not in love with me. Unless I’m scared shitless of losing you. Unless-” and Geralt stops his words when he gets up and hugs his bard tightly.

“ _I am._ I’m scared of losing you too. Please come back.” the Witcher answers all of Jaskier’s fears.

“You have a funny way of showing your love.”

“It will never happen again, I’d die first before I hurt you like that.”

Patting Geralt’s head softly, Jaskier laughs, “Let’s not do either of those please.”

“Please don’t ever forget me again.”

“It’s not really my fault-” at Geralt’s unimpressed stare, he changes what he’s saying, “ok, maybe I did something that warranted the curse, but I didn’t forget you willingly. Which, is the important part.”

“ _Good._ ”

It did pass through his head, that maybe Jaskier had chosen to forget him after he’d- but no, he wants to be with him. _He loves him._ And yes, t’s a bit cliché; only after losing that which you love do you understand how much you love it.

At least, they got here.

Together.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm also kickassfu on tumblr~~


End file.
